In Darkness
by one hundred zeros
Summary: - Mine, mine, mine - And sometimes, she wonders, was she really any different from him? Sonea/Akkarin


**A/N: And I'm back! ^^ This is just a super short one-shot to celebrate my other fanfic (Because of a Dance) reaching 170 reviews. It has 172 now, thank you everybody! Especially all my reviewers. I love you! :D I hope you will like this one too, even if it is so short.**

**:::**

Darkness, she always thought, was what suited him best. It mattered little that in the shadow, she cannot see his face, nor even exactly where he was. She did not need it. His presence spoke for itself.

Sight dulled the silent power of his enigmatic existence, something that so fascinated her, but which she would be foolish to think she could ever completely understand. Daylight reduced it into something mundane - something mortal. While there were those who might beg to differ, Sonea knew better - because she of all people has seen him when he was like a shadow in the night (or perhaps just in the darkness, for what did it matter the time when all darkness were the same thing?). And sometimes - just sometimes - she wonders if she was a little like that too.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice soft.

She smiled and shook her head, not surprised that he had found out. "Nothing," she replied.

His dark eyes watched her silently. "If you say so," he murmured. "Come, Sonea - if you don't hurry, we shall be late."

"It is just another one of the King's social gatherings. Since when have you ever been worried about those?" Sonea teased lightly, securing her black cloak around her similarly dark robes.

"I am not worried. They are merely more trouble than they are worth," he replied.

"You dislike them?" she asked, trying to sound surprised but not really managing it, because, of course, Sonea could hardly argue when she so whole-heartedly agreed with his opinion. While the Court festivities were the unique privilege of those who existed at the very heights of the Kyralian social hierarchy, they were tiresome, with more dancing and polite conversation than any real fun or amusement.

The corner of Akkarin's lips tilted upwards into a wry smile. "It is no wonder that I dislike these events if the men from the noble Houses still continue to attempt to court you with such unrelenting persistence."

"You're just saying that," Sonea replied, her tone fond. "Besides, they are probably intrigued by the Black Magic more than they are interested in me."

"You give yourself too little credit," Akkarin said, the compliment delivered in all seriousness, making Sonea glance at him.

"Do I sense jealousy?" she asked, tone just a little mischievous, as she strode past him towards the door. "I don't see why you should, though, since you have your own share of indefatigable women who-"

She did not get to finish her sentence, however, because just as she was about to open the door of their residence and step out into the night, Akkarin suddenly took hold of one of her hands and pulled her back, arm slipping around her waist as he kissed her.

Startled, it took a moment before Sonea realized what had happened, but when she did, she reached up to entangle her fingers in the long strands of his dark hair so that she could bring him closer.

"You're mine, Sonea," Akkarin murmured, pulling away just slightly and shifting so that his mouth was pressed against her throat. There was something darkly possessive in his gaze as he looked up at her from behind lowered eye-lashes, and it was as frightening as it was intoxicating.

_Mine, mine, mine._

Sonea smiled, pulling him close. "I know," she replied. And she did know - after all it was no different for herself, so much so that sometimes she would almost think that she was just as proprietorial as he was.

As Akkarin turned to kiss her again, Sonea could not help but remember the other reason why she preferred the dark so - because in the dark, Akkarin was the one she loved so dearly, and not the High Lord of the Magician's Guild of Kyralia. Away from the light, he carried no burden of his status, and then his entire existence was all _hers._

**A/N (more like a nice term for my fits of randomness): They sound too possessive... And the OOC monster strikes again. No~!**

**faints and dies -**

**Ame prods her cautiously.**

_**This is all your fault, you horrid muse...**_

**Just kidding. I love you Ame! ^^**

**MoonMyst**


End file.
